


Gag Reflexes (Who Needs Them?)

by KatenissEverdeen



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Deepthroating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:44:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16148042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatenissEverdeen/pseuds/KatenissEverdeen
Summary: Dennis and Charlie are alone.  Things develop from there.





	Gag Reflexes (Who Needs Them?)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kinktober 2018! Prompt was deepthroating.
> 
> Thanks as always to Coranam for editing!

Dennis wasn’t quite three sheets to the wind, not at that point in the night. He‘d had far too much control to drink more than he could handle. He was maybe a sheet and a half to the wind, though, and he felt on top of the fucking world.

Charlie was probably a bit farther along, but Dennis wasn’t quite sure how to tell. The two of them had been thrust together as drinking buddies that night due to everyone else they knew somehow being busy, and they had managed to put away… to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure. Dennis was in complete control, though. Always was.

So when Charlie started to rant and rave about who the fuck even knew what, Dennis was more than capable of calming him down. He knew it. He placed his hand on top of Charlie’s and gave a condescending smile that he knew would keep the situation in check. “Don’t you think that’s enough?”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at Dennis. “Is it enough? Is it fucking enough? What have I been talking about for the past…” he drifted off, clearly feeling the effects of their drinking session. “Whatever. However long. What have I been talking about, Dennis?” he asked, spitting out his name in a way that made it sound meaner than an insult.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I don't need to know that. What I do need to know is that you need to calm down, and then--” Dennis was cut off by Charlie flat out slapping him.

“No, listen, you do need to understand me, and you have to…” he paused for a moment, letting his anger and his blood alcohol content fight it out. “You have to listen to me now, Dennis!” He glowered, anger very clear on his face, and Dennis nearly lost it laughing. Charlie thought he could win against him? It was ridiculous, like trying to sail a ship into a cliff--you could try as much as you wanted, but the rock would remain firm. 

Dennis suddenly noted that something else was firm.

Goddamn him and his weird things for power and control, getting them and keeping them and losing them (only to gain them again, he’d always come out on top in the end.) So when Charlie shoved him a little too gently to actually do anything to Dennis, he fell out of his chair with a little more panache than was necessary. He winced and looked away from Charlie, hoping he wasn’t laying it on too thick (and immediately feeling better because he remembered that Charlie was a goddamn idiot.)

“Fuck, Charlie, I’m sorry, okay?” he said, trying to go for a conciliatory tone--come on, can’t we be friends? “I don’t listen to you enough, and I need to make it up to you.” He was up on his knees now, and he paused, like he was waiting for Charlie to hit him again (although if he had tried, Dennis would have stopped him--once was enough for one evening). When nothing happened, he moved himself forward a little, and cringingly put a hand on Charlie’s knee. “I really don’t give you the respect you deserve,” he said, still refusing to meet Charlie’s eyes, still differential, “Can I make it up to you somehow?”

He was laying it on with a fucking shovel. He would have been more concerned if Charlie’s mind hadn’t immediately jumped to “blowjob.” He put his hand on the inside of his thigh, clearly trying to be subtle, and grinned.

“Actually, Dennis, if you want to do something for me…” He popped the button on his jeans and reached for the zipper when Dennis stopped him.

“Let me do that,” he said in a low tone of voice as he unzipped his fly. He could have kept playing innocent, but that would have been a bit much, even for Charlie. He pulled Charlie’s dick out and stared at it like he was more than excited to take it in his mouth--which he was, mostly, but more for the control of it than anything else. He delicately slipped the tip into his mouth and ran his teeth gently over the head, trying to tease out some little sound from Charlie, trying to make him weak and vulnerable, trying to bring him closer and closer to needing Dennis, and then--

What he wasn’t expecting Charlie to do was to grab the back of his head in an iron grip and shove him down until he vaguely realized that his chin was touching Charlie’s balls and that hadn’t been part of the plan, but before he could even consider that he didn’t know where Charlie’s balls had been, he had pulled Dennis off his dick. Dennis was about to say something, but was cut off by Charlie shoving him back onto his cock, and Dennis felt his head go fuzzy as Charlie brushed the back of his throat.

Dennis had been so caught off guard by this that it took him a moment to realize that Charlie was face fucking him. He didn’t give one single, solitary fuck about Dennis’ plan to make him dependent and needy, he was using him as a warm hole to get off in. The thought made him clench his thighs together tighter, and he felt his own erection rubbing against the inside of his jeans. He tried wiggling his hips to get some friction, but Charlie grabbed him by his hair even tighter and kept going.

“Is this what you wanted me to do, Dennis?” he asked, clearly trying to hold it together. “Did you want me to fucking--shit, to fucking use you? Did you spend all this time to get me to--” he hummed in the back of his throat “--fuck your face?”

Charlie was almost too far gone to use words, and Dennis felt himself tense at the thought. Apparently his throat tensed, and apparently that was enough, because Charlie came down Dennis’ throat with a quick, loud, hoarse cry. He grabbed the back of Dennis’ head by the hair and held him there, making him swallow.

Dennis could handle most of this, but somehow, having to keep Charlie in his mouth during the orgasm was the last straw. He looked up, at Charlie, who was temporarily boneless, grabbing the seat of the chair and letting his eyes roll back in his head. Dennis dropped his jeans as quickly as he could and immediately stood up and straddled Charlie, getting his dick right in his business. Before Charlie had time to react, Dennis had shoved his cock into his mouth and was face fucking Charlie.

He tried to grab the back of Charlie’s head and pull his hair a little, see how he liked it, but he found a strange patch that felt gummy and realized that maybe having too much physical contact wouldn’t work here. He settled for grabbing the hem of Charlie’s shirt in one fist and yanking him even closer, hoping that his shirt was at least decently clean. He slowly came to the realization that he had to take control here, he had no choice, Charlie had to know that he couldn’t get away with doing whatever he wanted to Dennis! That and, if he didn’t take control, Charlie would probably bite hard enough to draw blood and leave him with several diseases that should have been eradicated in the thirteenth century.

He felt a soft sort of vibration around his cock, and he noticed that Charlie was trying to speak. Dennis shoved his dick in even further, hoping not to trigger whatever was left of Charlie’s gag reflex. Somehow, it was Charlie pointlessly trying to say something that did it. He felt his hips jerk once--twice--and just like that, it was over. He pulled out (after, of course, making Charlie swallow everything,) and saw the exhausted look in his eyes. Clearly, the combination of booze, sex, and being so thoroughly dominated had worn him out.

Charlie slumped onto the table and gasped for air while Dennis tucked himself back into his pants, hoping the balance of power had been restored, hoping that Charlie couldn’t possibly misinterpret this as him manipulating Dennis, hoping that he didn’t know how desperate and vulnerable Dennis had been right before he came, how he would have begged for more like a fucking whore if Charlie had managed to pull his mouth away.

He didn’t say any of that, though. He sat down again, and it was Charlie who broke the silence, voice still hoarse from his throat being fucked.

“Hey man, do you have any more of that good whiskey?”


End file.
